#Archivist! Dick

[autisticrosewilson]

An Excerpt from my TMA Au

Ft. Archivist! Dick, Spiral! Jason and Steph, and Stranger/Beholding Cass! TW for broken bones and horror themes, canon typical esoterica @perseus-jackass thought you'd like this!

"WHAT IS GOING ON!" Dick trips through the winding halls of the Head Institute, skidding to a halt in front the heap of limbs sprawled on the ground, bent in weird positions even by his standards.

Jason wriggles around on rubbery bones while Steph laughs at him, hanging upside down from her trapdoor in the ceiling.

"Humans are so...fleshy." he complains. "They break too easily." He wriggles his awkwardly bent limbs, and Dick can hear the broken bones grinding together under the skin. He tried to breathe through the nausea.

"Are you...okay?" It's a nasty break, multiple even, but Jason doesn't seem pained, and he's still not-human enough that his patron might lend a hand.

Cass, whose crouched oddly on top of a nearby table stares with wide unblinking eyes, studying the state of him. "Looks fine." The canned audio of the radio she's using as voice box crackles and cuts abruptly.

That's not reassuring, Cass's limbs look like a poly-jointed dolls on the best of days. "Steph, can you, um, help with this?" He looks to the blonde whose moved onto positioning Jason's limbs into increasingly strange positions.

"Why would I do that?" She seems occupied trying to...spell Jason's name with his limbs? What the fuck.

He doesn't get paid enough for this. Actually now that he thinks about it, Ra's doesn't pay him at all these days. No point paying an employee who can't quit and already lives with you.

[navree]

sam's better than me because if some lady pretended to be my friend only to drag me to a haunted mall in order to shove me, against my will, into a world experiencing the aftermath of the apocalypse all because SHE just didn't want to go back to where she originally came from in the first place, i'm not doing jack shit. let the archivist eat her or put her back into the original tma verse, i don't give a shit. 'oh but baby jack' fuck them kids too, i'm not falling into a hell mouth for a baby i met one time and his lying not-mom who was about to kill me, the eye monster could get baby jack to statement himself to death too for all i care.

[dickarchivist]

Tell Me Again.

Wolffe × Fem!Reader, new relationship

Word count: ~1700

MINORS BEGON 🔞

Contents and Warnings: n s f w 18+, Minors DNI, small fight resulting in minor cuts and bruises, vague hints of an abusive ex, fingering, counter sex, riding, unprotected PiV sex, Wolffe being protective of you, Wolffe being soft, Mando'a lesson. Fluffy smut, how nice.

Summary: After a fight with friends, you wear a few bruises with pride. Wolffe comes home for shore leave, and teaches you a few words in Mando'a while tending to your needs.

Mando'a used: Mesh'la (beautiful, pretty. Used as a pet name). Cyare (beloved, loved, popular. Used as an improper pet name, corrected by Wolffe). Cyar'ika (darling, sweetheart. Used as a pet name).

Author's notes: A continuation of the "Don't Stop on my Account" fic, which can be found [here].

Oh, to be in the hands of a hot man as you give him words of affirmation. This ended up in directions I didn't think it would, I was planning on it just being fluff, but then it became double smut, akin to the first of this series.

You'd gotten more used to the comings and goings of your favorite clone commander. Wolffe still kisses you when he leaves in the mornings, tells you how he looks forward to your next moment together. You've caught him trying to sneak out a few times since the first time you caught him, but you've succeeded in getting him to be more upfront about when he has to go for a while.

Your friends have been warning you again, however. "There's no guarantees." "We just don't want you to get hurt when he stops showing up." "There wouldn't be anyone to tell you if he died or not." "All you have is physical." "Honey just let him go, find a real man, not one of those credit a dozen toy soldiers."

You get into a full out fist fight with the one who calls Wolffe a toy soldier. It takes the others to separate you, you've never had that kind of impulse before but it made your blood boil and you couldn't help but wind up a punch. It's a new sensation for you, looking in your bathroom mirror and seeing the shiner and split in your lip.

You've come home with these in the past, but instead of the fear you felt in the past, you somehow feel proud of these marks. You got them defending the man you care about, and not from the one who was supposed to care about you.

You discard your top and pants, checking yourself for any major injuries. Few small bruises starting to bloom, some scraps, but all told nothing serious. You're about to turn on the water in the refresher when you hear the front door of your flat slide open.

"Mesh'la, you home?" There's a flutter in your chest at the sound of Wolffe's voice. Even among other clones, you feel like you could pick him out among them.

"In here!" You go to grab some concealer, but hesitate. These are badges of honor for you this time, why would you hide them? You turn around to stride out, but Wolffe is already there.

His eyes go from soft to shock, then anger, and for just a second you think it's aimed toward you. "Who did this? Who hurt you? I'll kill them."

You laugh, much to both of your surprise. He crossed to you, hands rough but surprisingly gentle around your face, "This isn't funny. You're hurt. Shoulda been here..."

"I got into a fight with someone because they called you a toy soldier, Wolffe. Trust me, they're worse off than I am."

You're starting to like this shocked face of his. Wolffe blinks down at you, really looking at the bruise around your eye, the pad of his thumb ghosting across your lip, just light enough to feel it. He takes your hands, looking at your bruised knuckles, smirking a little, "Kept your thumb out like I showed you?"

"Threw a mean punch like you showed me," you smirk up at him, and he gives you an impressed look as he sets his hands on your hips. "Like what you see Commander?"

Wolffe chuckles a little, kissing the corner of your mouth, "Of course Mesh'la, I'm lookin at you."

"What does that mean?" You try to steal a real kiss, but Wolffe pulls away a little with a husky chuckle and your breath hitches softly. You adore that sound.

"What does what mean?"

"Mesh'la... you call me that a lot, what does it mean?"

There it is again, that husky chuckle. This time, paired with kisses against your neck, making one hand grip the bathroom counter behind you as the other cards through the hair at the nape of Wolffe's neck. "It's Mando'a. Means beautiful. Pretty. It means you, Mesh'la."

You moan softly, lulling your head to the side as Wolffe sucks a hickey into your neck. He comes off you with a pop and blows on the newly forming dark spot. It makes you moan again, and your hips move forward in Wolffe's hands. "Is there a word for handsome?"

"Why? You wanna call me handsome?" Wolffe lifts you with ease and sets you on the edge of the counter. He moves forward a step and you open yourself for him, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him nearer. As his hand runs along your inner thigh, he answers you, "Don't know of one, Mando'a doesn't have gendered words like basic."

"Teach me..." your words are breathy already and he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Teach or touch?" There's two fingers stroking the front of your small clothes, making you whine, and Wolffe can't help a light laugh, "So tough a second ago, what happened?"

"Wolffe..." you whine again, hands holding his shoulders as your body shakes at even the touchs through thin fabric. You're starting to ache, needing more, "Do both, but touch first, please, touch first..."

"Kriff... you're wet, soaked through your panties already?" when you nod at his words, Wolffe walks his fingers under the thin fabric and presses a finger directly to your swollen clitoris. You jump, and he laughs, the rumble low in his throat, "no fight left?"

His fingers start to work you slowly, swirling your slick through your folds. Wolffe's going slow on purpose, you can tell, but it feels so good you don't want to rush him. It feels like a reward.

There's desperation creeping into your voice, your hips move forward to meet Wolffe's hand, "More..."

"More what, Mesh'la?" But he knows, he's already giving you what you desire. His hand moves lower within your folds, touching your entrance with teasing strokes before two fingers dip into your slick waiting walls, "This what you wanted pretty girl?"

Wolffe kisses the side of your head as you lean forward into his chest. His thumb works your clit as his fingers curl and pump inside you. "Wolffe... oh- mmm... Wolffe..." your legs open a little wider for him, and you close your eyes as you lean against his chest. You're panting hard, fast breaths as he brushes that sweet spot within and you see stars.

Your climax hits suddenly, and as you cry out, Wolffe's arm caresses the back of your head. He holds you safely against him as your legs tremble, clenching on his fingers as his movements slow. You're so dizzy, head light in ecstatic pleasure. You finally get a kiss out of Wolffe, a proper one. It hurts for a moment, but you've wanted that kiss since you saw him in your doorway, it was worth the wait.

"What's... what's Mando'a for "you are loved"?"

There's a pause, before Wolffe speaks softly to you, kissing your shoulder and neck as punctuation, "Cyare. Beloved... sometimes used for popular."

When his hand leaves your folds, you're worried that maybe you pushed those words too soon, but as he lifts you from the counter and removes your small clothes, you know it's anything but. Wolffe carefully lays you onto your bed, then dofts the rest of his clothing to lay beside you. He doesn't mount right away this time, not like you'd become accustomed to. No, his hands trail down, eyes following, tracing patterns onto your skin.

You tangle your legs with his, closing what little gap there was, and palm his length, pumping the stiff length in your hand. Wolffe growls and stops your hand, looking into your eyes, "Why'd you ask that?"

"If I can't call you handsome, I want to call you loved, because that's what you are, Cyare." Your cheeks are hot when you say it, but you know it's true.

"That's not how you say that."

"Did I pronounce it wrong?"

"Yes, but you're going for the pet name, yeah?" You nod, and can't help but find this whole thing endearing you further to him. A man of his word, he touched first, and taught second. "It'd be cyar'ika, then. Adding "'ika" makes it an endearment."

"Then I love you, Cyar'ika."

There's hope in his eyes, soft, loving hope, as if he'd convinced himself you were playing a joke on him when you'd said it before. "Tell me again."

You move on him, getting on top of Wolffe and straddling his hips. His hands rest on your thighs, and you share a moan as you take in his length until you're seated flush against him. "I love you, Cyar'ika."

As you swivel your hips, panting again already, the Commander watches from below. He looks dazed, eyes not leaving your face, there's disbelief and pleasure there, "Again."

"I love you."

You start to bounce on him a little, rolling your hips, clenching tight around his length, hands pressed to his chest for support. Wolffe bites his bottom lip and bucks into your tight walls, drawing a cry from your lips. Your repeat yourself again, "I love you."

As you bounce on Wolffe's length, you repeat the words over and over, gripping his chest hair, your legs shaking as you climax again. Wolffe isn't far behind you, with a few more hard thrusts his hips buck sporadically until he grunts, spending himself within your walls. You fall onto his chest, panting with him as he puts his arms around you in a protective embrace.

Wolffe is quiet for a moment after. You've since returned to your sides, your back pressed into his chest, his arms secure around you, legs tangled together. He presses a kiss to the cone of your ear, whispering, "You mean that..?"

As you turn your head to see him, you steal a kiss before he can pull away to spare your split lip. "I love you Wolffe. I love you, and I mean it."

Wolffe kisses you properly, still careful of the split in your lip. His hands rub your back, the curve of your hip, he's careful with you in a way he hadn't been before. He doesn't say it in words, but his actions tell you for him. Wolffe loves you too. As he nuzzles your heads together, tucking you close to him, he whispers a word you know now, and it makes you smile against his shoulder, "Cyar'ika..."

Tag List!: @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wizardofrozz (sorry if I missed anyone or added someone by accident! Not used to people asking to be tagged in stuff haha)

[weil-weil-lautre]

So far tens of millions of Americans can understand Ahab. They have worked under such men. A smaller but not insignificant number have gone through his experiences. The Diesel engine and now atomic energy face the vast majority with the same problem that he faced: the obvious, immense, the fearful mechanical power of an industrial civilization which is now advancing by incredible leaps and bringing at the same time the mechanization and destruction of human personality. Men who are thinking like that, classes of people in a nation who are thinking such thoughts, are being steadily prepared for desperate action. If now there descends upon them a violent catastrophe that ruins them and convinces them that the life they have been living is intolerable and the grave doubts that have previously tormented them are justifiable, then they are going to throw aside all the traditional restraints of civilization. They are going to seek a new theory of society and a program of action and, on the basis of this theory and this program, they are going to act.

CLR James, Mariners, Renegades, and Castaways: The Story of Herman Melville and the World We Live In

[imreallyonthishellsite]

Hahaha again!! Part 3

[vergess]

Asexual people: /writing fanfic about asexual characters having sex for any number of complex reasons, up to and including 'I think it would be funny or hot.'

Fucking assholes: Ummmmm WHY are you FREAKS going around SEXUALIZING THAT MAN don't you know the CREATORS said he never fucks and fanfiction is ALL ABOUT the canonical vision!!

[frogs-running-in-circles]

i’m really out here collecting silly little gay characters like pokémon

[the-birth-of-art]

Dick Latvala (July 26, 1943—August 6, 1999)

[monstrouscrew]

four times i drew Martin Blackwood: the third.

(ID in the alt text)

[heartofjasmina]

Vanitas looks like a dream to Noe, full of Noes cock and bleeding from the neck- his fang marks. "Finally," is all Noe can focus enough to say.

[nombinary-snax]

I just want unlikeable women protagonists to be as popular and beloved as unlikeable men protagonists.

[jacksintention]

Automaton angel

[dickarchivist]

Yall really like them hot boys of Grave Squad huh? As a lil treat, when I hit 50 followers, who do you wanna see a Pin Up of first? (sfw with not safe version under the cut)

[danny-chase]

Me: i don't need another discord server, I'm distracted enough as it is

Also me: BUT what IF i MADE the discord server for MY niche interest and organized it exactly how i wanted and made rules against any content i didn't want to see, what about THAT hMM

[tafadhali]

someone had a very trying Friday and has been fed two tamales and sent to bed

[benbamboozled]

I would like DC to start just fully setting minis in specific comic time periods like fanfic do.

“This mini is set between issues 37-38 of Captain Whateverthefuck.”

DC already does comics like fanfic do, might as well embrace it